


The Five Times Enjolras Brought Someone to the Musain and the One Time Grantaire Brought Someone

by pessimisticprose



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alcohol, Fights, Implied Sexual Content, Introducing Boyfriends, Jealousy, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:32:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pessimisticprose/pseuds/pessimisticprose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to popular belief, Enjolras does date. In fact, he dates a lot. He's brought five men back to the Musain to meet his friends. <br/>When Grantaire brings his first serious boyfriend back, Enjolras reacts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Times Enjolras Brought Someone to the Musain and the One Time Grantaire Brought Someone

     The door opened with a loud bang. It had been forcefully thrown open in someone's haste to enter the small café. Enjolras came into the Musain with a determined stride, but the man behind him walked through the door into the café in a more timid way. 

    He was wiry and lean, standing tall like a guard might. His posture contradicted with his nervous stride. His dark hair and bright eyes caught everyone's attention. The Musain fell silent. He wrung his hands as he stood closely beside Enjolras and allowed the blonde to introduce him. 

    "This is Jacques," Enjolras' brow furrowed, but he grinned up at the man. "He wanted to meet my friends, since I've met his." 

    His voice was deep, "It's a pleasure." 

    "Don't be nervous, love. They won't bite," Enjolras said. 

    In response, Courfeyrac clicked his teeth together loudly. Jacques laughed freely and sat down with the curly-haired man. 

    No one noticed Grantaire watching Jacques and Enjolras the entire night. 

 

 *** 

    The second person Enjolras brought to the Musain was a god. He was tall, handsome, and dark. His hair was almost as long as Enjolras', and his muscles captivated everyone in the room, heterosexual female or not. 

    He was better-looking than anyone the friends had ever seen,  Enjolras included. If Enjolras was Apollo, this man was Zeus himself. He was glorious to behold, and masculine as well. He was a dark beauty, much like Jacques had been. 

    So when Emile began speaking fluent Italian, Portuguese, Russian, English, and Spanish, Les Amis actually wondered why he was with Enjolras. 

    "He makes me happy." He kissed Enjolras' temple, and the Musain heard their leader emit a giggle for the first time. 

    "I'm glad. I'm very lucky," Enjolras responded with a grin. He pulled Emile down to his mouth and all of the patrons at the Musain cooed collectively. 

    All of the Musain, with the exception of Grantaire. 

 

***

 

    The third man he brought home was intelligent. He could make anyone at the café feel like dirt with his mental capabilities, but he was so kind that he would never even dream of it. 

    Francisco was Spanish. He was dark-skinned, dark-haired, and sported the most amazing green eyes anyone had ever seen. They were vibrant and electric. They were definitely his most attractive feature. 

    He sat with Combeferre, since they had much in common, and spoke in low tones about philosophy and politics. 

    "So tell me," Courfeyrac roared over the music playing from a speaker on the other side of the room. "How did you and our leader meet?" 

    Francisco launched into an epic love story, one that actually made Cosette and Jehan tear up, with interjections from Enjolras every few sentences. Francisco didn’t seem to mind, though. He only stared fondly at Enjolras when he spoke.

    Grantaire was not amused. 

 

 *** 

 

    His name was Lucian. He loved everything Enjolras loved, treasured the ideals that Les Amis valued, and was ridiculously attractive in the talk, dark, and mysterious way.  What's not to love? 

    Maybe the fact that he was a bit of a douchebag. Everyone secretly wondered why Enjolras was still with Lucian (because he wasn't one to be put down), but no one questioned his choices verbally. 

    The first time he came to the Musain, he looked like an orange. He had two pairs of sunglasses, spiked hair, and a fake tan that could blind a man. 

    When he insulted something about Enjolras, everyone squirmed uncomfortably whilst Enjolras and Lucian stared at one another. 

     Suddenly, Grantaire stood and firmly said, "Get out. No one wants you here." 

 

***

 

    Everyone thought number five was there to stay. The first time that Les Amis met Alec, they found him awkward. He was similar to Joly in his nervousness, but similar to Grantaire in his drinking. He didn't drink in excess like Grantaire found fit to do, but he drank nonetheless. Alec fit Enjolras' type: a dark-haired man with piercing bright eyes. 

    He sat by Grantaire, who had a fist clenched and resting on his thigh, and smiled. He was already too drunk to see the man's pained expression. "Hi! I'm Alec!" 

    "I know." 

    "Want me to buy you a drink?" 

    After that, they became fast friends. The entire night, Alec and Grantaire were talking and laughing about this and that. It was the first man that Enjolras brought home that Grantaire even talked to, let alone liked. 

    Enjolras eyed them carefully that night, and no one ever saw Alec again. 

 

***

 

    Grantaire had never brought a man or a woman to the Musain. The first time he did, he was nervous and sober. 

    He cleared his throat and his friends all saw the other man's hand in his back pocket, resting there comfortably. Enjolras' eyes grew to the size of saucers, and he looked away as quickly as possible. 

    Grantaire's boyfriend was nothing short of beautiful. He had short sandy blonde hair, paired with dark eyes that seemed to understand everything. His stature was tall, and one could easily see the muscles he sported through his shirt.

    "Francois, this is Les Amis. That political group I told you about. They're also my closest friends. Careful, they’ll con you out of all your money."

    He smiled a charming smile, "Any friend of 'Taire's is a friend of mind. My name is Francois. It's a pleasure."

    Enjolras stayed quiet until Francois sat beside him about an hour later. Grantaire was standing on the edge of the room with Bahorel and eyeing the bar longingly. 

    "Bonsoir!" he said. "You must be Enjolras. 'Taire has told me a lot about you."

    "His nickname is R," Enjolras murmured, clutching his book tightly. Combeferre's eyes flicked between the two of them, but he stayed silent. 

    "That's clever! He doesn't mind, though. I would know," he flashed Enjolras a wink, which only made him more tense. Francois sighed, "Look, I know you're jealous. You two probably had something going on at one point and you never really got over him. I get it. He's amazing! But he's mine now, so I need you to stop acting like you own him. You don't, okay? He's _mine_ now." Enjolras glared at Francois as he downed a shot. The man grinned coyly at him and said slyly, "Also amazing at blow jobs." 

    Enjolras sprang and fists flew. 

    It took Bahorel, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, and Grantaire to pull the fighting men apart. Enjolras was struggling against Bahorel and Grantaire, whilst Feuilly and Courfeyrac were trying to restrain an almost flailing Francois. No one was particularly hurt, just arrogant about the bruises the other man could inflict. 

    "What the hell is going on?" Grantaire demanded angrily. He looked between Enjolras and Francois and eventually softened when he was looking at the former rather than the ladder. "Are you guys okay?" Grantaire made no move to help either of them. He only stood with his arms crossed and waited. 

    "Babe, I'm sorry," Francois said eventually, slinking up to Grantaire. Enjolras cringed and looked away. 

    "I brought you here to meet my friends and you get into a fight with one of them." 

    "I said I was sorry! God, you're such a little bitch," Francois looked like he  wanted to spit. 

    "At least I don't-"

    "Not a word," Francois hissed. Enjolras saw Grantaire flinch, and realization dawned on him. Abuse. 

    "I think you should leave," Enjolras declared stonily. 

    "Who are you to tell me what to do, pretty boy?" 

    "I think you should go, too," Grantaire murmured softly. He looked anywhere but Francois, who was trying to meet Grantaire's eyes. He looked wounded. 

    They were both emotionally attached to one another, Enjolras realized with some emotion akin to horror. 

    Francois left through the front door, after more harsh words and a breakup were screamed across the café, and Grantaire stormed out the back door, which led nowhere. 

    Enjolras followed him. He sat down beside Grantaire on the porch. The curly-haired man nodded at him, but stayed silent with a hurt expression playing on his face.

    "I'm sorry. I threw the first punch," Enjolras admitted. 

    Grantaire glared at the ground, "So it's your fault. Why?"

    Enjolras laughed bitterly, "He was being disrespectful." 

    "He could do that. It takes getting used to." 

    "Was he abusive?" 

    Grantaire stared at him, "What the hell made you think that?" 

    "You flinched. I thought-"

    "Pardon my flinching. No. He was a genuinely nice guy, but he's a recovering heroin addict. That's what I was going to say, which is horrible of me," he said softly. Grantaire looked at the sky and sighed, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought him here." 

    "Hell, it isn't _your_ fault!" 

    "No. It's yours. I was trying to boost your self-esteem." 

    Enjolras wondered how often Grantaire put himself down on Enjolras' behalf, but quickly shook the disturbing thought away. "Yeah, don't do that. I can handle myself. Are you going to be okay?"

    "It's just a breakup. I don't really care." 

    "You do care." 

    "Not about him," he said gently. "Look, I appreciate the attempt to talk, but I'm leaving. We'll see how I feel after a few shots." He stood and began to leave. 

     Enjolras scrambled to his feet without his usual grace, calling after Grantaire, "Wait! Stop, R!" 

    Grantaire turned, "What?" 

    "I'm not very good with emotional soliloquies, but I feel one is appropriate. So bear with me, okay?" Grantaire nodded, so Enjolras continued after a moment's hesitation to cleft his thoughts. "I was jealous - really, really jealous - of Francois. That much I know. I don't know why it bothers me so much that he was all over you and kissing you and," Enjolras shivered and looked at the ground, but Grantaire kept his eyes on him. Enjolras didn't even want to bring up the blow job comment that started this. "Just a lot of things. It was awful seeing that. I bring back more people than you, so I bet you feel even worse! I kind of get it now, and I feel horrible that I had to put you through that." 

    "I didn't think you knew," Grantaire admitted softly. "Francois was to get my mind off of you. It was a mutual thing, though. Long story. He dated a guy a while back and he screwed him over." Grantaire paused. "Also casual sex." 

    Enjolras was bombarded with an imagine of Grantaire coming apart for someone else, screaming a name other than his own, anyone but him, and he wanted to hit something else. "Don't," he growled. "I can't handle that." 

    "Apparently not," Grantaire smirked. 

    Enjolras hissed, "Trying to be sincere here, R."   

     "Right, right. Continue about how much you want to bang me." 

    "You cannot make things easy for me, can you?" 

    Grantaire grinned and blew him a playful kiss, "You love it." 

    That he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you catch that Enjolras' type is pretty much R? I thought you might. Maybe. Haha 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!


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